


to serve in the light

by summoner_yuna_of_besaid



Series: in the shadows [6]
Category: Middle-earth: Shadow of Mordor (Video Games), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Orcs as People, Why the Orcs Serve Talion, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoner_yuna_of_besaid/pseuds/summoner_yuna_of_besaid
Summary: The orcs had never had a leader willing to fight with them.  To bleed with them.  Or even...A rescue mission goes wrong, and the orcs learn how far Talion is willing to go to protect his own.





	to serve in the light

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this on my lunch break; will edit later.

From his perch, Talion can see the layout of the entire camp.Most of it is empty, save a few lonely fires, and some scouts on the walls.Most of the activity is in the north, where a stage has been raised, a great crowd of orcs cheering for the deaths of those tied to the poles dotting the stage.

There’s at least forty orcs in the crowd, and one Captain - Drukak the Fell - patrolling the stage, shouting and cheering in the black tongue, and Talion doesn’t have to understand a word to know exactly what he’s doing.

‘Warming up the crowd,’ Celebrimbor drawls.‘Your chance for action will be slim and quick to pass.’

Talion’s gaze darts to the shadows round the camp, where he can see his men falling into position.Hoglick is at the fore, crossbow out and aimed at Drukak, but the distance is great - no one but Talion will make it onto the stage in time. 

“Hopefully they’ll make for a good distraction.”He mutters.

Five orcs are tied to the poles, four of whom are base grunts, followers of the fifth -Norsko the Unashamed, his Warchief, one of the strongest orcs he has stationed in Cirith Ungol.He’s a tall, broad shouldered Uruk, covered in metallic debris embedded in his skin and intricate markings Talion can’t guess the origin of. 

He’s not letting him die here.

Drukak turns on the stage suddenly - arms raised, rousing high cheers from the crowd.

‘This is it.’ 

Talion’s gaze narrows - he knows.In the next instance, he vanishes in a flash of blue light, and reappears on the stage - between Drukak and Norsko.

He hears a sputtering laugh behind him, as Norsko tries to lift his head.“What took so long, boss?”

Talion doesn’t reply - he keeps his gaze even.“NOW!”

Focused on the Gravewalker, Drukak never sees the attack from behind, a score of bolts firing into his back.Talion spins immediately, drawing Acharn and setting to cutting Norsko’s binds.

The orc rubs his wrists, grinning, bouncing on his feet.“Bout time I got to shove it to these -“

“No,” Talion, already sprinting to the next orc, as others began climbing the stage, only to be mowed down by his archers.“We save the others and we retreat.”

“But -“

“That is an order!”Talion insists.“We are far outnumbered, and I will lose no one else today!”His eyes flare with light as he says it, and Norsko gives a heavy nod.

“Right then,” He claws into the bindings on the last orc, who falls into a crumpled heap.“What’s this, ya gonna give up and die right here?After all the Gravewalker’s done to get you out?”

“L - Leave me…”

Norsko picks the orc up with ease, slipping him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.“Come on!”The others have fared better; they all take to running off after Norsko.Talion remains, dodging an arrow from the crowd, waiting to make sure everyone is running.

“Hoglick!Retreat!”Arrows and bolts are still flying, the stage empty save for fallen bodies.Talion scans it one last time, moving to jump off the stage, when the explosion rocks the ground beneath him.He has a moment to panic, to wish this was happening any time besides this, before he grimaces and lifts his head.

Twenty feet ahead, the orcs he’s rescued are sprawled across the ground.Norsko is bleeding, profusely, his face black with the wound, and the orc he’d been carrying lays unconscious behind him.Through the fog and ash, another orc enters the fray, an Olog Hai twice as tall as Talion, wearing the bones of dead men and skulls upon his helmet.A fiery crossbow as long as Talion is tall sits in his arms, where the exploding darts he uses are shot with deadly accuracy.

Ar-Zalur, the Tracker.

“I’ve been hunting you for days, this time,”The Olog grunts, a shit eating grin on his face.He gestures to a bone on his shoulder.“Took that one outta you, before your wrath vanished you away last time.Hope to get a rib this time.”

‘Talion’ Celebrimbor appears at his side.‘We cannot take them all.’

His gaze darts from the fallen orcs, to his retreating archers, to the army about to swell over the stage and take him from behind.“We don’t have to.” 

He leaps from the stage and charges Ar-Zalur, his movement taking on more force with the Wraith’s power.He turns back to his men.Norsko is trying to drunkenly stand, and failing. 

“Take him!”Talion tells the grunts.Two rush forward to slip him onto their shoulders.The last takes the unconscious one.“Run!Go!” 

“Talion!”From the tall grass, Hoglick appears, firing at Ar-Zalur. 

“No!”Talion draws his sword, parrying a heavy blow that has his feet sinking into the mire.“Take your men and get out of here!Guard Norsko’s retreat!”

“What about you?”

“Go!”Gritting his teeth, Talion pushes Ar-Zalur back, and rolls under his feet.On the other side, he sees orcs running after his soldiers, and grimaces.His body takes on light, and fury, and before it can overload he clenches his fist and shatters the ground, exploding with brightness and fire all around. The grass catches flame, and the path to his soldiers is blocked.

And he is on the wrong side.

“Well, well,” Turning, Talion braces to face Ar-Zalur.The Olog looks as if the holidays have come early.“I think this time I shall enjoy breaking you slowly.”Behind him, fifty orcs are amassed, blocking all exits.Behind Talion, fire rages, nearly blistering in its heat.

Talion lifts Urfael, and charges.

* * *

 The first time Norsko ever lost a battle was to the Gravewalker.

He was a berserker, one of the best, and chosen by the Warchiefs of Cirith Ungol to guard their front gate with a small battalion of his own.He’d not had his men for a fortnight before they were all tossed easily aside by one human man with the strength of a god.

At the time he’d been - stunned. Infuriated.Unsure how in the world this could be possible.What was stranger still was that, when he lost, he survived.His axes broken and discarded, pushed to his knees, Norsko accepted his inevitable death and bared his throat, daring the man to take his life.

The Gravewalker had removed his sword - and knocked him out with a punch.

It became known that he’d lost, that he’d been unable to take the Gravewalker who then went on to kill the Warchief, that he’d let the front lines fall.He embraced it.He embraced his loss without any guilt or shame - it had been an honorable fight and defeat, and he had lived to grow stronger, to become better.They called him the Unashamed from then on, and he embraced that too.Marked himself with white palms to cleanse the defeat from him.

When next they met, Norsko was guarding an outpost when he spied the Gravewalker slinking along the walls.The man was silent as death, and left behind piles of unconscious orcs - never one dead.It was rumored he only killed the fanatics, the high powered, those devoted to Sauron.Nearly everyone else, he left alive.

He left Norsko alive.The orc could not help but wonder why?

He tailed Talion through the camp, watching him steal in and take information from some of the guard posts, before slipping back into the wilderness.He kept tailing him.He followed him until the man spun and drew his sword, taking Norsko nearly by surprise.The second battle was even more furious than the first, but it ended the same - with Norsko on his knees, axes tossed aside, bloody but alive.

“What are you doing, Tark?”He chuckled, mouth full of blood.“You keep leaving us alive, you’re just making us stronger.”

Talion met his gaze.“Good.”He said.“If I make enough of you stronger perhaps the Dark Lord won’t be able to take advantage of you anymore.”

The answer shocked him.Norsko remained kneeling, watching the Gravewalker leave, and stayed there for what seemed like hours. 

He knew there were orcs who served the Bright Lord.Knew that there were others, fellows of his, even those he’d served with, who left the Dark Lord’s service to work under the Gravewalker.He’d never given it a second thought.Weaklings, the lot of them.Traitorous shrack. 

Yet… the third time they met, Norsko saw Talion take down a Fortress with his men by his side, and he saw how they fought.He saw the way Talion stood, back to back with his men, fighting and bleeding with them.

When had the Nazgul done such a thing?Or even the Warlords?Let alone the Dark Lord himself?

He’d never even met the Dark Lord. 

The Fortress fell, the inner courtryard was breached, and the moment Talion broke through the ranks, Norsko knelt, and flipped his axe handles to face Talion.

“My weapon is yours,” He said.“If you would wield it.”

With chaos erupting behind them, Talion halted, and smiled.“If it pleases you to offer them.”

* * *

 He awakes in fits and starts, fading in and out as they run.He sees the grass fleeing beneath them, their feet marching along, until eventually someone lays him down and he falls into blissful rest.It feels like ages before his heavy eyes open again, and Norsko looks up to see the ceiling of the Hospice inside Cirith Ungol’s fortress.

“Welcome back,” The orc beside him greets him, pushing his head back to examine his eyes.“Still kickin’ in there?”

He swipes the hand away.“I’m fine.What happened?Did everyone -?”

“Your men made out fine.”The orc said.“Two of Hoglick’s bit it.”The orc then hesitated.“Bright Lord, too.Hasn’t come back.”

The world falls out beneath his feet.

“What?”Rushing to stand, Norsko grabs the orc by his throat and lifts him.“What did you say?”He can’t respond much through the choking.Norsko tosses him aside and rushes outside into the fortress.

The central courtyard has the other war chiefs gathered, and Norsko runs for them first.“Fuck’s going on?”He spits.“Where’s the Gravewalker?”

Hoglick turns to look at him, eyes grim and emotionless.“Dead.”He rolls his shoulder.“Be back in a couple days, ‘spose.”

“… dead.”

“Don’t matter.”One of the others says in a tone that really means it does matter, but they can’t do anything about it.“He’s the Gravewalker.It never sticks.”

“But - the hell happened?He was fine!”

“He cut off the escape route to keep Ar-Zalur and the others from tailin’ us.”Hoglick replies heavily.“Then fought Ar-Zalur by himself, with half a dozen archers shootin’ at him from all sides.Never stood a chance."

_ But… why? _

Fists clenched, Norsko stormed to the nearest wall and slammed his fist into it so hard it cracked.

“Hey!”The nearest Servant orc stood and cussed at him.“You’re fixin’ that, all right!”

He didn’t reply; Norsko stormed off to his quarters to retrieve his gear.He needed to kill something.

* * *

 Norsko knows the moment the Gravewalker returns; there’s a wave of cheers and raucous celebration that passes through the fortress as he moves inward, until the main courtyard is full of orcs hooting and hollering and singing bawdy songs of his success.

Norsko is there when it happens, on the second level wall, and immediately rushes in to see for himself, pushing orcs aside.He barks a laugh, and then barrels for the edge, coming to fall in the courtyard himself.

The crowd parts for him; by the time he reaches the center, the Warchiefs have joined them.Norsko rushes them, and by the time Talion turns to face him with a small smile, his blood is boiling.

He punches him.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT TARK!”He shouts.“Nobody asked you to go and fuckin’ die for ‘em!What kind of shrack plan was that!”

The crowd parts some, backing up in anticipation of a fight, while the Warchiefs make to intercede until Talion holds up a hand.

“There was no other way.”The man insists, standing.“Once Ar-Zalur arrived, I knew I had no other choice.I didn’t wish for it to happen -“

“If you don’t got a death wish, then stop actin’ like you do!”Norsko punches his shoulder.“Don’t think the whole damn army can’t see it!Throwing yourself in the way, fightin’ on the front lines, takin’ everything on yourself!”

“I can take it.”

“Can you?”He gets in close, real close.“Orcs are pretty tough, we can take a beating.You’re tough for a tark.But everybody’s got that breakin’ point, yeah?And orcs are good at finding it.The way you act, you’re staring into the abyss and sooner or later ya gonna fall in!”

Talion’s face scrunches, as if he’s heard something he didn’t like, and he glares a little to the side of himself.

“It was the only way to save -“

“Did you stop to think it wasn’t worth it?”Norsko grabs his arm; the world is spinning.This man, this idiot, his commander is here, alive, yet Norsko is only here because he died - what kind of soldier is it that requires his commander’s death?What kind of orc is he to stand here having been giving this…

“My life,” He starts breathlessly.“Is not work your suffering.”

Talion’s hand lifts and covers his on Talion’s shoulder.“To me, it is.”

* * *

 A few hundred orcs saw the exchange that day.

Word travelled quick about the whole thing; Norsko’s capture and rescue, Ar-Zalur’s surprise appearance, Talion’s sacrifice.It was retold at bonfire upon bonfire, in fortress and encampment, by orc after orc after orc, each retelling growing grander and more detailed and heroic than the last.

Even those who hadn’t seen him, who hadn’t fought with him, who barely knew him, heard this story and grew bolder, braver, more determined in the fight against Sauron.They’d all served the Dark Lord.They’d all been to the torture pits, suffered the wraith of their superiors, watched their fellows die as the Warlords and Sauron’s highest servants looked on from afar.They knew what it was to serve a Dark Lord.

And now?Now, they knew a different way.They knew of a man who fought alongside them.Who fought to free everyone from tyranny, not just his own people.A man willing and ready to give his blood, sweat, tears, and his life for his goals.He never gave in.Death wasn’t enough to stop him.And if it came to it, he would even die to protect those under his banner. 

Now, they know what it is to serve the Bright Lord.And every single one of them does it gladly.


End file.
